


Snowed In

by Jessi



Series: Teen Angel 'verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Bunker Fic, Dean is a whiny child, Fallen Castiel, Snowed In, Teen Angel 'verse, fleece pajama bottoms, playing Monopoly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi/pseuds/Jessi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teen Angel ‘verse 30 Day OTP Challenge: Gaming/watching a movie</p><p> </p><p>Because Dean is so inattentive, it comes as a total surprise to him when he ends up on Mediterranean Avenue, and Sam goes, “Ha! You owe me $250 dollars, jerk.” because of course there’s a hotel there. Dean goes for his money, only to discover he only has $37.</p><p>“Looks like I’m out.” He says.</p><p>“Wait.” Cas blurts.</p><p>Sam and Dean look at him. “I can give you the money, Dean, here.” and Cas starts digging in his huge wad of pastel paper.</p><p>“That’s not how it works, babe.”</p><p>“Oh.” Cas turns to Sam, “could I possibly trade you one of my railroads in exchange for Dean’s rent?”</p><p>“It doesn’t really work like that either.” Sam smirks.</p><p>“So there’s nothing I can do?”</p><p>“Nope, Dean lost.” Sam explains.</p><p>Cas sets his money carefully in the middle of the board, along with his tiny pewter top hat. “In that case, I’d like to ‘lose’ too. Here you go Sam, you win!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

> These fics are written for fans and brokenhearted queers with _needs_ so no you may not teach them in your class. I didn't go to college and neither will my fics. We're keepin' it real.

It’s their first full winter in the Batcave, and it turns out to be the worst Kansas has seen in over 100 years. It’s Tuesday now, and they’ve been snowed in since Sunday afternoon, when Dean finally gave up on trying to keep up on shoveling in the face of so much friggin’ snow. 

Cas for the most part has been content, working on and off on the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle (and doing it in ink, the cocky bastard), occasionally seeking out Sam or Dean’s help when he doesn’t know the answer to a pop culture clue. Sam is all settled in, reading some massive, musty old novel from the bunker's library, and drinking mug after mug of raspberry mint tea. 

Dean though, Dean is going stir crazy. The cable and internet are both down thanks to the storm, and he read more on Monday than he can remember reading in his entire life. Every few hours he drags Cas to their room to fuck or just fool around, but by Tuesday night he’s reached the point, trapped inside so long, where he’s not even especially interested in sex. He just wants to go out and drive in his Baby for awhile. There hadn’t been much in the way of hunts for a few weeks even before the snow came, and he’s not used to being in one place, sedentary, this much. It’s making him jittery. 

Dean throws the tattered old paperback Western he was reading down on the big conference table in the main hall and huffs in annoyance. Sam and Cas both look up at him, and Cas quirks a brow in question.

“I”m bored.” Dean grumbles like a petulant child.

Sam rolls his eyes, “We know, you’ve been telling us that, over and over, every 10 minutes for the last four hours.”

“I‘m still bored.”

Cas looks at him with a playful expression, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

Sam groans.

“Nah, not right now, babe.” and to soften the blow of rejection, Dean leans over to Cas who is sitting in the chair right next to his, and gives the fallen angel a big wet kiss on the cheek.

Cas grimaces, wipes off his cheek with the back of his hand, and returns to his crossword puzzle.

Dean snags Cas’ spare pen and starts fiddling with it, wiggling it between his thumb and index finger so it looks like it’s made of rubber, balancing it on his upper lip like a mustache, then he steals Sam’s tea spoon, and starts doing the drum part to Pinball Wizard on the table with pen and spoon. Less than 30 seconds into Dean’s stellar Keith Moon impersonation Sam yanks both implements from Dean’s grip and shouts, “Stop! Jesus, just fucking stop!”

Cas and Dean both stare at him. 

Sam continues, “Look, if I find something for all of us to do, will you stop complaining, and fidgeting, and just being generally obnoxious?”

Dean gives his brother stink eye, but Sam is the bitch face reigning champion, and holds his ground. Dean gives in.

“Fine. But we’re not playing Barbies or having a tea party, or whatever, Samantha.”

“Shut up, Dean.” Sam wanders into the depths of the bunker.

To pass the time until Sam returns, Dean sets out to distract Cas from his crossword, sliding sock clad feet slowly up Cas’ calves inside of baggy, sky blue, bumble bee printed, fleece pajama bottoms. Cas tries to ignore him, but doesn’t hold out for long.

Sam returns to find his brother with a lap full of Castiel, Dean’s hands up the back of Cas’ Aladdin Sane shirt, Cas sucking on Dean’s earlobe. 

Sam clears his throat. Nothing. He does it again, louder, a blatant “Ahem.”

Cas pulls off Dean’s ear with a slurping sound that Sam is pretty sure will haunt him in his sleep, and sheepish, with flushed cheeks and kiss bruised lips, turns to look at the taller man.

Dean looks at his brother as well.

Sam accepts that apparently he doesn’t get the luxury of having this conversation without Cas straddling his sibling, and sighing to himself, holds up a box.

“I remembered that last time Charlie visited she brought some board games. We have Monopoly, or Sorry. I figured you didn’t want to play Sorry-” he addresses Dean, who visibly cringes, and Cas rubs his thumbs in circles on Dean’s shoulders in apology until he relaxes, “so I grabbed Monopoly.”

“Awesome. I get to be the car!” Dean exclaims, almost knocking Cas out of his lap in a rush to claim the game piece before anyone else.

“I’ve never played this game.” Cas frowns.

“It’s easy, I’ll explain it to you.” Sam offers.

Cas climbs the rest of the way off of Dean’s lap and settles back into his own seat, “Thank you, Sam.” He gives the younger Winchester a small smile.

Sam explains the rules, and everyone sets their game pieces on ‘Go’. Dean, the race car, Sam the dog, and Cas the top hat. 

Sam plays strategy, buying up cheap spaces and piling them full of houses and hotels. Cas has a streak of beginners luck a mile wide, pulling all the best cards, and buying up railroads, utilities, and both Boardwalk and Park Place, amassing his own real estate empire of houses and hotels on the properties. Dean on the other hand, is losing, badly. Not only are his rolls lousy, and he keeps ending up in jail, but he’s also distracted and half hard, since every time it’s Cas’ turn the man has to lean up to reach to move his game piece, and his t-shirt keeps creeping up to reveal the dimples on his lower back, and so Dean is focused 80% on fantasies of licking those dimples until Cas begs for more, and only 20% on the game. Apparently he had been premature in declaring himself disinterested in sex. 

Because Dean is so inattentive, it comes as a total surprise to him when he ends up on Mediterranean Avenue, and Sam goes, “Ha! You owe me $250 dollars, jerk.” because of course there’s a hotel there. Dean goes for his money, only to discover he only has $37.

“Looks like I’m out.” He says.

“Wait.” Cas blurts.

Sam and Dean look at him. “I can give you the money, Dean, here.” and Cas starts digging in his huge wad of pastel paper.

“That’s not how it works, babe.”

“Oh.” Cas turns to Sam, “could I possibly trade you one of my railroads in exchange for Dean’s rent?”

“It doesn’t really work like that either.” Sam smirks.

“So there’s nothing I can do?”

“Nope, Dean lost.” Sam explains.

Cas sets his money carefully in the middle of the board, along with his tiny pewter top hat. “In that case, I’d like to ‘lose’ too. Here you go Sam, you win!”

Dean barks out a laugh, like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. Sam is just watching Cas, jaw dropped in disbelief.

Dean snags Cas around the waist, and heaves the smaller man over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He smacks his boyfriend on the ass and says, “Alright, sugar daddy. I’m gonna take you upstairs and show you just what you’re getting for your money.”

Cas laughs, and pinches the back of Dean’s thigh, “Go on, then!” and Dean half jogs from the room, Cas still held tight in his grip. 

Sam vows to never play Monopoly with them again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this prompt meant gaming like video games, but I do what I want. And you can't stop me. So there.


End file.
